It was midday and Fial checked his position with his sextant. This was unusual for he seldom needed it but wanted to make sure he was right as he was at what he believed to be a crossroads. Two degrees two minutes and forty-seven seconds north by nine degrees twenty-six minutes and fifty-seven seconds west was his calculation. He checked his chart and found he was right on the edge of the Gulf of Guinea as he thought. He could continue south east to Soyo or turn north east to Elmina along the Ivory Coast. The booty from Elmina, a major slave trading port would be substantial but he knew little of the port and it would do nothing for Bongo and One to Ten. It would also make him just another pirate and no doubt endanger his son. He had stood at the helm alone for most of the journey, occasionally looking back at the fleet, trying to fathom the change within him. He was sure his plan would benefit all and held course for Soyo.
In Foilakilly, Ireland overlooking Bantry Bay, it had been some days since Fial had left and Father Donnelly finally found a moment alone. He had been tutoring Will one on one since before the boy was old enough to attend school and was seldom away from him. He carefully opened the wax seal and pulled out a parchment letter. He recognised Fial's distinctive flowing handwriting, somewhat distorted in places, written aboard the Ghost in poor weather. It told of a place which when necessary would yield the wealth needed to put Will through school and university. Donnelly memorised the map drawn on the back of the letter. He read the letter several times and studied the map until he could summon any detail of it.
A point was marked on the south western end of Whiddy Island in Bantry Bay. He was faced with a dilemma: if he was the only one who knew of this place it could be forgotten in time should anything happen to him. Will was a young boy and would live well past his time. He made the decision to take Will with him to find whatever it was his father had left for them.
It was a fine day, cold but settled and it would take an hour and a half to row to Whiddy Island. He took Will down to the row boat hidden in a cave in the face of solid rock below Foilakilly under the guise of a fishing excursion, leaving his wife at ease. They rowed steadily along the bay edge towards Whiddy Island, taking one and a half hours and going ashore in a small cove on the south western end of the island. The cove was below the settlement of Reenoknock, the only residents being a farming family a mile inland.
From the top of a rock face about fifteen feet high on the northern edge of the cove was a sinkhole, ten feet wide and only accessible by lowering yourself into the hole by rope when the sea was reasonably calm, as waves could break over the crumbling seaward side only a few feet wide. If the water level in the hole was affected by the waves it took a few seconds for the level to wane and leak back into the sea through the broken rock. Donnelly found a heavy hemp rope, with knots about a yard apart, hung within the trunk of a hollow of a dead tree a few yards from the edge of the hole exactly as stated in the letter. He knew he was in the right place.
He threw the rope down the hole, the end being tethered inside the hollow of the tree it was hung in. It reached the bottom of the hole exactly. He first assisted Will to climb down the rope some fifteen feet to the bottom of the hole then followed himself. The darkness of a cave under the rock face was illuminated by a candle lit with flint and tinder, also hidden within the hollow tree. The cave was tall enough to walk through and they ventured into the cave some fifty feet to the end. Donnelly began to move a pile of rocks one at a time from one corner of the rock face. He rested when the pile he moved grew taller than Will in the middle of the cave blocking their exit. Will took over, moving a small rock. An area of black timber could be seen. Donnelly got his second wind and scrambled to expose what they had found. A few more minutes revealed a black timber chest with heavy steel edges and corners, Will attributed its smell to what he could remember of the galleys of the Ghost. A heavy steel clasp held the chest closed but with no lock attached. Donnelly went to move the chest out but it was too heavy, this he thought surprising as it was not big by any means – about two feet square. He had to move all the rocks around the chest before he could open the lid; its hinges squeaked in protest as he forced the lid back.
He passed the candle across the surface of the contents and they stared in disbelief. The chest was full of gold coins and gold bars.
"My God Will, this would be a king’s ransom, never in my life would I have thought my own eyes would see such a thing. Your father has left this here for your schooling, we take enough to last a while then return when need be."
"Can we not take it all now?" asked Will.
"No my boy, we need plan how to use this wisely and not be creating any attention to ourselves. While it lies here only we know. When the time comes we can use some of this to buy the rich and put you on a path to Westminster. It is your father's dream you fight for us with the power of the pen and not the sword; this is my dream as well Will."
They took a few coins, enough to last months, and climbed from the cave carefully replacing the chest, rocks, rope and candle. They rowed home in the failing light with new hope.